Then we went and did the most American thing we could think of. We ate at the Hard Rock Cafť. Which was excruciating, to say the least. We were made to wait a good 40 minutes for our table, which is just wrong, because itís not like itís the damn Skybar or Miyagiís!

After we ate, I ditched my friends and headed for the Picadilly Circus Tube station, as I had plans to see the Afghan Whigs play at a club called the Astoria on Charing Cross Road. I had to bob and weave and look touristy while I was trying to find the pub where a few people from the Whigs list were meeting up, but when I finally made it, I got to enjoy my first British pint of beer. That was the point when I decided that I really liked this country.

We made it over to the Astoria and the show knocked me on my ass. Perhaps it was the combination of 3 more beers and Greg Dulli shaking his lovemaker in such a fashion so as to incapacitate me, but damn. It was definitely one hell of a show.

Monday we went to Portobello Road, which is a street full of open air markets and shops. Of course the dollar is so completely worthless in comparison to the pound, it was rather pointless.

After that we walked across London Bridge. I have to tell you, I really expected more. Especially after all the fuss over it Ďfalling down, falling down...í. The Tower Bridge, which is that thing far off in the distance, is much more impressive. Doesnít it seem far away? Well we walked all the way there to the Tower of London.
When you hear The Tower Of London, frankly, you walk in expecting - well - a tower. Which is hardly an apt description of this place. Yeah, itís big and impressive and has one hell of a finely manicured lawn, but itís hardly earned the right to be called a tower. There was this really cool guy who was around 60, and was dressed in a pinstripe suit, bowler and was carrying an umbrella. He looked like an aged version of John Steed from the Avengers. We came to the conclusion that he must work there, because a guy like that should have much better things to do with his time than hang out in front of the Tower of London. I would have a picture of him to show you, but as my roommate was the one who took the picture and she was not under the same deadline as me, her rolls of film are sitting undeveloped on her desk. Tart.